Drink like a local: TARDIS Edition

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Not that long ago, as I was thumbing through the titles of an old Victorian book store outside London, I stumbled upon a book entitled A Journal of Impossible Things. I snatched the thing up for a song, hoping that I had discovered some long lost masterpiece.

Upon getting the thing home, I discovered my mistake. The book was written as some sort of journal, by an individual who refers to himself only as “the Doctor,” and who seems to have a total disregard for proper continuity. One chapter, he’s an aged man traveling with his granddaughter. The next, he’s gallivanting around dressed as an Edwardian cricketer, 50,000 years in the future.

I would have written the book off as a farce, except for the timely phone call of a friend of mine by the name of Jenny. Her call was brief, but I got the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that the book I had found was her father’s, and that I should by no means let it out of my sight.

If I am to believe her, as well as the dreamlike adventures within the book’s pages, I see it only fit to warn the general population that there is a man out there, traveling by police box, who can change his face and is quite willing to kidnap you for extended periods of what I can only refer to as time.

If you encounter this individual, I recommend extreme caution. Perhaps offer him a drink. Of course, the proper drink for the Doctor will vary based upon which face it is he greets you with. As I’m in possession of the only copy of his book that I’m aware of, I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up a handy guide for you (with pictures).

1st Doctor: A Victorian era gentleman of advanced years, the first Doctor is a fairly cranky individual whose tastes reflect his appearance. Most drinks will seem too “modern” to him, but the offering of a glass of port will do wonders to crack his curmudgeonly veneer.

2nd Doctor: Outwardly, this face of the Doctor is that of a hobo. Do not be deceived, however, for beneath his rough-spun garb lurks the mercurial mind of a genius. Being that his facade is in part camouflage, this doctor cannot be seen to indulge in high-minded spirits. Instead, offer him an infusion of pear, cranberry, cinnamon and brandy. It may not look like much, but this cocktail is sure to surprise.

3rd Doctor: Of all the Doctors, this man got closest to the military establishment. Though UNIT and MI6 operated separately, you can be sure that #3 was aware of a certain Aston Martin driving super spy. Hand him a vesper martini, (shaken, not stirred) with a wink and a nod, and you just might win this Venusian aikido champ’s heart.

4th Doctor: A whimsical, anti-establishment individual, this scarf-clad Doctor has a fondness for the quirkier side of life. Wait for him to start playing chess with K-9 (his robotic dog companion), mix together some cherry vodka and Jelly Babies, and ask to play winner.

5th Doctor: Dressed in the style of an Edwardian cricketer, this Doctor is more reserved than his attire suggests. He prides himself on being able to decipher a drink’s ingredients by smell, so give him a twist on something traditional. The Ramos Gin Fizz takes a bit of elbow grease to pull off, but so does getting to know #5. PS: Whatever you do, don’t serve him anything with rosemary in it.

6th Doctor: Be careful if you encounter this face, for the 6th Doctor is nobody to trifle with. His vast intelligence is dwarfed only by his ego. Serve him something so simple and refined that he’ll have no choice but to belittle you instead of it. Vago Elote mezcal has the benefit of being crafted by only one very singular individual, just like the Doctor.

7th Doctor: A sweet man who becomes more complex the longer you know him. This doctor’s signature question marked vest and cane are right on the money. As he’s fond of illusions, why not offer him a Bangkok Blush. Garnish it with a bit of citrus and watch the Doctor smile as his drink changes from TARDIS blue to purple before his eyes.

8th Doctor: Even in his own timey-wimey journal, the 8th Doctor seems to barely cling to reality. His is a shattered realm, existing at the very threshold of disaster and, often in multiple universes at once. Pay his very existence homage with a cocktail encased in its own thin veil of ice.

War: There is one face, mentioned only fleetingly in the journal, which I hope you never see. Nameless, this weathered and grizzled man has shunned his own tenets in favor of an existence bent toward war. He is precise, unwavering, and lives for the moment. If ever there was a time for a shot of whiskey, this is it. Apply liberally to both yourself and the man in the leather overcoat.

9th Doctor: After every war there is a reckoning, and this cool, collected Doctor’s leather jacket hides more than he’s letting on. He walks a razor’s edge between redemption and self-destruction. Take time while crafting the Stepping Razor Blade for him, because it’s all in the details for this man.

10th Doctor: A lover of all life, look for this doctor to appear in a suit and a pair of Converse shoes. He loves poking fun, but feels every loss he’s ever experienced. Offer him a Rimbaud’s Left Hand. He’ll enjoy the fact that you know he once lost a similar limb. If he detects the rose water in the drink, he just might tear up a bit.

11th Doctor: This Doctor might appear in a fez, but he’ll definitely be sporting a bow tie. A thrill-seeker who still manages to make deep and lasting connections, the greatest of which was with a little red haired girl who he met on his very first day as the Doctor. If you don’t see a woman responding to the name “Pond” at his side, offer the Doctor a Fish Custard Cocktail in her name.

12th Doctor: My journal has precious little written about this grey-haired dapper fellow. It seems he exists later than the book’s writer, and unlike the 11th Doctor, the author hasn’t met him. Still, I get the impression that he’s a bit dangerous and somehow alien while looking familiar at the same time. He’s quite possibly the type who might like a cranberry gimlet. The drink is as tart as his attitude, not quite what’s expected, and also happens to match the red lining of his coat.

That’s all the information I could extract from the Doctor’s Journal of Impossible Things, but if you’re aware of further ways to ply this ethereal, ever-changing man with drink, let me know in the comments below.